"They've tied a coat or something to the flag halyard, and they're running it up and down," Jerry said. "They're trying to get here, but they have to tack. Don't you see, Chris?"
Of course I saw, but I did n't blame Jerry for being snappy at the last minute.
The next tack showed very plainly that the boat was really coming to the Sea Monster, and somebody stood up in the stern and shouted. We shouted back—one last howl—and then stood there panting, because there was no use in wasting any more breath and our throats were quite split as it was. When the catboat came a little nearer we saw that there was only one man in it, and, sure enough, an old blue jersey was tied to the flag halyard. The man turned the boat around very neatly—I don’t know the right sailing word for it—and anchored. Then he climbed into the dinghy that was trailing
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